


top four sexual fantasies held by fox mulder in reference to dana scully. you won’t believe the hangups in number 2!

by wtfmulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Lil weird here and there, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 23:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11724537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfmulder/pseuds/wtfmulder
Summary: Prompt: what does Mulder fantasize about?





	top four sexual fantasies held by fox mulder in reference to dana scully. you won’t believe the hangups in number 2!

##  **The Weirdest**

“I am Day-nuh,” says all seven feet of her, crouching down to look him in the face. He is terrified and thrilled, cursing himself inwardly for forgetting to bring a camera. He only has his stupid tape recorder and a bottle of spray paint. Stupid, _stupid_. He is also painfully erect. Day-nuh is sporting some serious cleavage in that skin tight, red vinyl dress of hers, and when she stands up her tits are level with his eyes. “I have arrived from Planet X197. You have not heard of Planet X197.” **  
**

“Of course I have. You’re right next to Planet X196.” This Scully also frowns at him when he makes a joke. But this frown is candy apple red, and just a tad more pouty. This Scully is an alien.

A _sexy_ alien.

“We are more advanced than you in ways of technology. We travel by the light.” She goes on to explain it all to him in her clipped, droning voice.

The craziest part of this might be her hair. It puffs out in wild curls that would push him back, with electric force, were he to touch them. Well. That is the craziest part before she takes her clothes off.

He’s half-listening because he really is interested, but her legs distract him. They’re positively divine in those sinful red heels, and they come all the way up to his belly. He pictures getting down on his knees and kissing up the length of them at the same time she describes to him the abysmal process of booking an intergalactic flight with Andromeda Galaxy’s version of United Airlines.

“We come to your planet because there is something you understand that we do not. We have our science and our technology, but we find that our lives are ultimately lacking. What is your name, earthling?”

He swoons. “F-fox. F-fox Mulder.”

“Fox.” Day-nuh tests it out and tilts her head to the side, as if in serious thought. “Fox is a good name for a human, and not at all silly. Fox, I am taking you back to my planet, Planet X197.” She rises to her full height, but not before scooping him up into her arms and turning them toward her spaceship, whizzing and whirring a short distance ahead of them. “You will teach me what humans know. Fox, you will teach me the ways of making love.”

He snuggles into her soft breasts, which smell of grapes. She carries him away.

##  **Most Shameful**

They are in separate hotel rooms, but their beds share the same wall. Scully is so, so angry with him, maybe angrier with him than she’s ever been, and he thinks off and on that he hates her. No, how could I hate her. How could I not? He hates her. He doesn’t. He loves her and that’s why he’s able to hate her like this. He loves her so madly it backfires; he is not capable of loving something and not making it awful. He seethes. In the next room, a door opens. He listens.

Her voice. Of course his first assumption is that she has called someone – maybe her mother, to rant about her prick of a partner, maybe it’s Skinner to give him updates on the case. Maybe she’s ordering food.

But then there’s another voice.

Sometimes it’s a man’s voice, sometimes it’s a woman’s voice. It doesn’t matter. It makes her laugh, cheers her up, and for the moment he’s grateful. She’ll be easier to deal with when the time comes for reconciliation. He listens some more to hear that shock of laughter, feels cool fingers of it stroke the heat of his anger, and he is okay. The voice makes her laugh.

And then the voice makes her moan.

It takes him no time at all to understand what’s happening. He hears the rustle of sheets, zippers, she unzips, they unzip, he unzips, he’s tipping his head against the wall and furiously stroking his cock to the bang of the headboard, her little cries, the strength of her voice when she tells her lover to _fuck me_ harder, _let him_ hear _it._ She shouts out things unimaginable. _Fuck your little slut_ , she says, _make me come on your dick_. Mulder keeps one hand on the headboard, approximately where she is pressed up against it. The other hand stays busy. The other hand makes him fucking come, and he sees stars. He almost blacks out. He doesn’t stop listening. Again, he hardens. And it all starts over.

##  **Dirtiest**

“You were sent to spy on me.” Easy coming out, a statement of simple truth. Her body freezes so close to where he has mouth on her by the waistband of her innocent white panties. Her minxyred robe slips all the way to the floor. Good. That had been overkill.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says haughtily, but she lets him turn her over in his arms and back her up the dresser, setting the candle down behind her. One look at her face and he knows that he’s right. Special Agent Dana Scully has been sent to fuck the crazy out of him.

His cock twitches and fills as she returns his heated gaze. Not once does she look away or back down. Gone is the trembling, terrified girl of only moments before – though he isn’t so sure that was an act – and the woman before him is a woman who knows that the gig is up, she’s been caught, but wants him to fuck her anyway. Infinitesimally, she parts her legs, pushes out her chest. He can make out her hard, dark nipples through the pretty silk, and in candlelight her facial expressions flicker like her intentions. She’s got great lips, a tight little body. She is also no good for him.

Down on his knees, he forgets how good she felt in his arms, replaces that knowledge with how good she tastes on his tongue. Bad little Agent Scully was sent to fuck the crazy out of him, but he is determined to fuck it straight into her.

##  **Most Recurring**

“You’re not making me read through all of these witness statements without some libations,” she says, shoving a bottle of red wine into his hands and breezing past him into his living room.

He laughs and means it when he replies: “Can’t get too drunk. There’s some math here I need you to do.” But he pours them out two glasses anyway, pleasantly surprised to find her barefoot and comfy on her side of the couch.

“I can do it,” she dismisses him, opening a reference text and gratefully accepting her glass. “Used to make for a good party trick.”

“Sounds wild, Scully. Maybe you should invite me sometime.” She smiles.

Something is different in her. In them. She explains the same theory to him over and over again – but he has it, he understands, he just likes the weight of her almost in his lap when she draws a diagram on his sheet of paper, the way her mouth moves around words like “dilate” and “atomic clock.”

In the middle of drawing out a grid for her to map her function, she looks up at him to make sure he’s paying attention. Her hand is in his lap where his notebook rests; it’s been there for minutes. Neither of them are breathing. She licks her lips. Their faces are red and warm from the alcohol, and when she presses her wet lips to the corner of his mouth, it burns him. The notebook falls to the floor.


End file.
